


Protection

by Cypherr



Series: Hollow [7]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Protective Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Protective Technoblade, this takes place after both Descent and Abyss, wilbur holds tommy hostage :/
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-13
Updated: 2020-11-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:48:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27545602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cypherr/pseuds/Cypherr
Summary: "Wilbs I'm scared. Where'd you go?"
Relationships: Clay | Dream & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Dave | Technoblade & TommyInnit, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit
Series: Hollow [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1958773
Comments: 32
Kudos: 925





	Protection

**Author's Note:**

> another part already? pog  
> anyway, I'm incapable of writing anything other than Tommy angst, apparently, so this is also Tommy POV  
> I'm still ignoring my academic responsibilities I am so far behind rip

It was midday, and Tommy had yet to see Wilbur. He'd even left the White House, enjoying the warmth of the sun on his skin and the breeze in his hair. Nether, he'd even taken the time to bathe in a nearby river, washing off days of sweat and grime (and blood- always _so much blood._ )

After- after the _incident_ that morning, when he'd finally gotten over his shock (because _Notch_ , he'd punched _Wilbur_ \- he was so _fucking dead_ ) he'd rushed out onto the streets of L'manburg. He'd bolted to quick he hadn't even grabbed his neckerchief or a long-sleeved shirt, revealing his scars for their people to see. But, he couldn't find it in himself to care. He'd felt so free- so _giddy_ with relief that, at least for the moment, he wouldn't have to walk on eggshells.

Now, he was sat in the flower fields, watching Tubbo's bees buzz around merrily, hopping from flowing to colorful flower, building up sticky, yellow pollen on their legs, and getting it stuck to the fuzz that covered their bodies. He giggled when one landed in his lap, settling down like it was a happy cat and not a gigantic, terrifying insect. He brushed a couple of fingers down its back, gently petting it, making sure to avoid its fragile wings. He- he would never admit it, of course, but he could see why Tubbo loved them so much. Bees just- they just did their own thing, content with what they were given. He wished Wilbur could be content- that he hadn't let all this power get in his head, twisting his thoughts until he was a deranged shell of the man he once was. He missed Wilbur. Missed the brother that would scoop him up and give him piggyback rides when he was younger. Missed the man that sung him sweet songs whenever he was down. Missed the Wilbur that told him he loved him and actually _meant it_.

There was another bee, nuzzling his face. He hadn't realized he was crying. He let out a watery chuckle.

"Thanks, lil guy," he murmured to the kind insect. The sun was high in the sky, and he knew he should be getting back to the White House, or at least L'manburg, but he- he felt so fucking _happy_ among the flowers and the bees with the breeze in his hair and the sun on his skin that he couldn't bring himself to move. He'd been so fucking _terrified_ for _so long_. He was alone now, just as he is under Wilbur's tyranny, but it was comforting, almost. It was like the cold, hollow spot in his chest had been filled, if only slightly.

He wondered where Technoblade was as he absentmindedly stroked the bee that had made itself at home on his lap. He missed his oldest brother. It had been _fun_ \- exhilarating, really- to finally be able to fight alongside him. It had been all he ever dreamed of as a kid, from the first time he saw Techno compete in a bedwars tournament, to when he made (begged him to) Techno teach him the art of the blade. He'd hardly been able to pick up the wooden sword, the small, skinny twigs he called arms were no match for the hefty, solid wood, He remembered Techno's raspy laugh and the bright grin that had stretched across those menacing tusks, promising 'when you're older.' He always wanted to be like Techno. Notch knows he'd never say it out loud, though- not even to Phil, Nether, he missed Phil- missed his _dad_. He wondered if he'd be proud of hi, fighting for his nation and what he believed in, or ashamed that he was a good for nothing coward at Wilbur's mercy. (It felt wrong, calling it 'mercy.' Wil was never merciful. Not anymore. Not for a long time.)

"THIS IS MY FUCKING KINGDOM AND NEITHER OF YOU HAS ANY SAY IN HOW I FUCKING RULE IT!" That was- that was Wilbur. He was close, likely just beyond the treeline. Who- who was he talking to? He put on his seamless diplomatic facade for everybody (everybody but him.) What- what was going on?

On shaking legs, he got up, a couple of curious bees following him over towards where the shout came from. He had been right in his assumption. Wilbur was just past the first row of trees, donning his ratty, padded trenchcoat, and his worn beanie. Dream and Techno were across from him, which was surprising, to say the least. No one had seen either of the pair since the final battle. Dream stood in front of Techno, hood down revealing his blonde hair, enchanted netherite sword held out in front of him, poised for attack. Techno stood just behind him, his hunched figure making him appear smaller than the admin. It was as if he was cowering beneath his red velvet cape. It was an odd sight, the three of them, but he had been careless in his approach, too caught up in the fear of the moment, and had stepped on a twig, the snap echoing in the aching silence.

Wilbur's gaze snapped to him, grin feral and full of awful promises. Tommy made to step back, to flee from the scene, but he was too slow and Wil was much too close. He was grabbed by the arm, snatched up and held in his brother's. There was a blade pressed against his throat- a little iron dagger. (He had given that to Wil, for one of his birthdays. He had to have been no older than ten at the time, and had been so excited to give his big brother- his Wilbs- a gift. It hurt, knowing that he was threatening him with something he once held dear.)

"Oh, Tommy! Just the man I wanted to see!" Wilbur purred, voice ringing next to his ear. From his position, back against Wilbur's chest, he could see the fear in Techno's gaze and the newfound tension in Dream's posture.

"It'd be a real shame if I had to kill you again, hmm? I would _hate_ to have to punish you for the actions of others," the mocking pout would have been laughable if he wasn't the hostage in question. He could feel Techno's gaze zeroed in on his neck- on the thin, white scar that haunted his nightmares, bared for him to see.

"Again?" His oldest brother's raspy voice was naught but a whisper, but it could be heard clearly all the same.

"Why of course!" Wilbur cackled, madness more present in his actions than ever before. "Tommy sure messes up a lot, but it's a-okay! Big brother is always here to correct his behavior, isn't that right Bubba?" he cooed. He could feel Wil's smile against his cheek, where he was nuzzling his face like some kind of fucking cat.

Held still as he was, he could see the moment rage boiled over inside his hybrid brother. His nostrils flared and tusks were pared, his slitted, blood-red eyes seemingly glowing.

"what the _fuck_ have you done to my brother," the half-piglin snarled. The guttural growl didn't seem to faze Wil in the slightest. Tommy could see the unmistakable glint of a diamond axe in his hand, now, drawn from his inventory in his blind rage.

"Ah, ah, ah, Techie. You wouldn't want me to have to hurt wittle Tommy, would you?" He imagined, that if he had a hand free, Wil would be wagging a finger at them. As it stood, he settled for the venomous, condescending tone that made even his blood boil. He felt the cold iron of the blade press deeper into his flesh, drawing blood. He could feel the crimson bead travel down his neck as if it were a burning trail of acid. He whimpered at the feeling, terrified at the prospect of dying again- dying in such a _humiliating_ way again.

"Oh Bubba, don't worry, it'll be okay! It'll be just like that time in of office, short and sweet! I'll be here the whole time!" Wilbur's bubbly laughter only struck more terror into his breaking heart. He choked back a sob, trembling in his brother's hold. He wanted it to be over already. He didn't want to deal with this shit anymore. He missed Wilbur. He missed his big brother.

"Wilbs I'm scared. Where'd you go?" He cried, the words porring out of his mouth before he could think to stop them. He could feel stupid fucking tears roll down his face like he was some kind of child. (But he was. Notch, he wanted to be a fucking kid again.)

Wilbur loosened his grip, seemingly frozen in place. The deranged giggles that never seemed to stop finally did, leaving him in petrified silence, accompanied only by his sniffles and Wil's heavy breathing. The moment of hesitation from Wil was all Dream needed, however, striking quickly. He tore Tommy from Wilbur's hold, tossing him back into Technoblade's awaiting grasp. He couldn't see what was happening anymore, his face buried in Techno's chest, but he heard Wilbur's cut of scream, and he heard the tell tale ping on his comm, alerting him that someone had died.

Techno's arms were tight around him, but it felt _safe._ He felt _safe_ for the first time in so _fucking long_.

"T-Tech-"

"I know, I know. 'M sorry," the hybrid mumbled into his hair, he himself shaking from the horror of watching his youngest brother be threatened like- like _that_.

A leather clad hand gripped Tommy's shoulder, firm but reassuring in it's weight.

"We'll protect you, Tommy. You're safe with us."

"Promise?" he murmured, voice still shakey with emotion.

"I promise." And he believed Dream. (Because, really, did he have any other choice?)

**Author's Note:**

> no i did not proofread this


End file.
